


Old houses

by Emotimau5



Category: N/A - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-13 16:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21171209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emotimau5/pseuds/Emotimau5
Summary: Travis Touchdown takes a trip to his old childhood house, but didn't expect to remember a lot.





	Old houses

He didn’t know why he was bothering. Going to your childhood home? It might be fun! Until you remember the thing burst into a fire and then fell apart via your half sister’s anger towards your asshole father. And also remembering that there was probably nothing left but ashes. And maybe some water pipes. And a basement.

Maybe there’s something that wasn’t torched to oblivion down there. Unless the damn thing was still standing when he managed to leave the place. With Henry apparently? He could barely remember having a twin or what happened, but obviously he got out. He didn’t stick around for when the house caved in on itself. If it even did.

Besides, maybe he could raid the damn place for extra money or something. There’s gotta be something that didn’t melt into a puddle.

Travis pulled up to a surprisingly still standing house. If Matt Helms was in there, he swore to every god in the world he’d re-murder the little bastard. “This damn place is still here? You’d think they’d tear it down by now.” He grumbled, walking up to the door. Then again, the place was almost out in the middle of no where and the neighborhood had basically fallen apart.

Going to open the door wasn’t really needed. Putting his foot on the door and giving a good shove had it fall off it’s hinges. The base board was completely eaten by flames, basically falling apart the moment he even touched the door.

“… That destroyed?” He asked quietly, walking inside to the place still a mess but also creaking loudly. The feeling of the houses weight hanging over him told him to get ready to haul ass if something so much as made a snapping noise over head. “Alright. Where to look first? I wish you’d been more specific before you fucking died Jeane…” He grumbled, looking at the note Jeane had left on her body. It was just in her pocket, just some numbers. Too bad for her he had taken one too many classes and dropped out of them before graduating… And knowing how to make a GPS work.

He looked around, getting a flashlight and keeping his hand on his katana. It’s just an old house Travis, no ghosts here. A banging noise nearly made him leap out of his skin. Looking around showed only a chair breaking apart, the back having been too heavy for where it was attached. He gave out a gasp of relief, continuing on looking through the house.

“Jeez… This place really is a disaster… No wonder people left. Bet ya the pipes are made of lead too.” He grumbled, walking through and shining the light in any room he could. “Guess the bedrooms aren’t on this floor.” He said, looking to the stairs.

They were pretty burnt and creaky looking, not exactly a safe thing to walk on, but he’d ran up and down old stairs before. And so had Matt Helms. And he probably weighed three hundred pounds. “Yeah… that looks safe enough to climb up. If it breaks and I fuckin’ die, so be it.” He started carefully going up, keeping an eye on the stairs as he climbed.

“Don’t rush, or you really will break the fuckin’ stairs or something will jumpscare you and then they’ll break.” Travis got to the top of the stairs and looked around. There were still some old vases, have cracked or broken from the sudden heat of the fire. They crunched and cracked as he walked over them. Looking inside any vases that were still intact only showed the ashes of flowers long burned away. Nothing else was hidden in them.

To anyone else in Santa Destroy, it would seem sort of irritating that there was nothing left to take from them, to Travis, he couldn’t help but feel a little sad. He could almost remember seeing brightly colored flowers still sitting in them, hid mom checking each vase after a week to see if they had water. Christ. Why was he getting sentimental over flower pots? He shook his head and continued on, looking into old rooms.

He immediately recognized one as a nursery. A few toys that were metal covered in scorch marks. Not worth much, but surpisingly still, it struck a chord. He remembered playing around in here, his parents always bringing home new toys for him. Knowing what he does now it was mostly to distract him from what was happening, but it still kept him from being traumatized at least. Maybe that’s what his parents were doing at the time, distracting him. Or at least his mother. He smacked the sides of his face. “Focus...” He mumbled, getting his backpack he grabbed and going to pick up some of the old toys. He could probably fix and clean them.

Moving on brought him to Jeane’s room. There wasn’t much in there. Figures. But there was at least some older things in the room that hadn’t been completely obliterated by the fire. Probably gifts from his mother to try and coax Jeane into coming out of her shell to her or to apologize. Either one was plausible. He remembered coming in here as a kid to listen to stories of Jeane’s mom, how nice she was. It still confused him, how such a dickhead father would be his dad. He left the room as is. He didn’t need to remember his sister, her face was burned into his skull already. He had a romantic relationship with her anyway and now that thought sends him reeling. God, Bishop drove him nuts reminding him.

He quickly left the room, trying not to think about it any more than he already was. Next room was his parents obviously. Biggest fuckin’ room there. There had to be something of value here. There were jewelry boxes on the dresser. “Jackpot, gotta be something in there!” He said, hurrying over to it and opening it. “Oh...” He sighed, already disappointed. There wasn’t much, just like everything else. A couple broken watches, some old earrings with the gems having popped out of their places, necklace chains. It could all be melted down for the most part. Save for a pendant. It didn’t look like a lot, just star made from a tiger’s eye stone that was scorched, but for some reason, it caught his attention.

He didn’t know what to make of the feelings he was having from it, but something told him to hang on to it. He picked it up and put it in his pocket, taking the rest of the box and emptying out what wasn’t destroyed and moved on. Obviously any safe he found probably wouldn’t be worth looking at.

Now came the last room. Obviously his and Henry’s. There were two skeletons having fallen in front of a crib. He already knew what happened here, that day buried in the back of his mind. His sister brutally murdering his parents, bashing in his dad’s head. Which was called for now that he thinks of it. But why his mother? She couldn’t have known about what happened with Jeane’s mom. He shook his head. “Dammit, don’t think about it Trav. You’ll give yourself a damn headache.” He grumbled, going and looking at the old cribs and mobile that hung over them.

“Metal… Really? What were they thinking.” He said, looking at the one over his and seeing his had dragons. “What about Henry’s?” He said, looking over and seeing birds. “That’s a contrast, I thought I’d see unicorns.” He said, knowing Henry would try to kick his ass if he mentioned it to him. He sighed, he could already remember the fear he felt, seeing his sister kill his parents, this whole room was still soaked with it, despite a fire burning through it. He looked to the skeletons, having been picked clean by animals and clothes being burned. One skull utterly destroyed, the other’s rib cage smashed into pieces where the heart would be. Travis rubbed his chest. That phantom pain of feeling his half sisters hand going through him and holding his heart.

“Damn… Almost like mom...” He said, taking a step back. It stung a little now, even though it was healed and scared over. He left the room, still holding a hand over his heart. He sighed, trying to remember something else. But now all he could think of was Jeane nearly killing him like she killed his mother. Shinobu did save his life, but for some reason, he would’ve been fine if Jeane’s popped his heart like a balloon.

“… Maybe it’s time to go…” Travis said, starting leave. He headed down the stairs, hearing them creak, and comically breaking behind him. He immediately left, having gotten what he wanted, and a few things he didn’t want to remember as well. Maybe watching anime will get his mind off the mess he just got out of. At least he hoped. He looked back at the house one more time, trying to stay neutral in how he felt towards it. But it felt like he was running away from the mess. He’ll face the past some other day. Right now, he just wanted to sleep it off, get back to being a mindless killer for a bit. Maybe some jackass was waiting and getting more pissed about him being late. Good.

He was always up for a rage fueled fight.


End file.
